blood bank
by kinselllas
Summary: Post Season 2 AU. Bellamy/Raven, some Bellamy/Clarke


**A/N:** _Sorry, not DB but these two have taken over my life and at some point I'll find my way back to them, but I'm so bellamy x raven right now it's not even cute. This will be a two part fic probably and some elements of Bellarke, but ultimately bellamy x raven._

 _Bellamy POV, next part will be Raven POV_

Bellamy can hear her screams sometimes, background noise in the middle of the night that forces his eyes open, gets his pulse racing in pure darkness. He's never really figured out if it's coming from her tent, or his own head. Unsure which scares him more.

He's half asleep, eyelids heavy when the door of his room opens and she's leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him to notice her.

"What?" He says, unsure if he even said it aloud.

"I can't sleep."

He notices, amusedly, that she still hasn't entered the room. Her eyes are so hesitant and still defiant, she never admits that she's scared. He knows a few women like that.

Bellamy doesn't say anything in response, just nods. Because this might still be a dream, after all.

He remembers the image of her strapped to a table, the drill plunging into her leg. He could've matched her screams in that moment, feeling angry and desperate and absolutely horrified. Bellamy has never accepted losing her, even in the beginning, when they didn't owe each other anything. Sometimes it feels like he owes her everything.

 _His body could still be hanging in the dropship, after all._

Raven enters the space and pulls the door closed behind her. It's oddly comforting. He knows that Raven has something with Wick, and Wick must like Raven. But he also knows that he and Raven have seen things on the ground that Wick has never seen. He knows that he was there when Finn died, and he was the one to hold her until the tremors pushed her into exhaustion. Raven is smart, and she is strong, but she's also human. He knows a few women like that, as well.

She pulls off her jacket, carelessly and then starts on her brace. Bellamy watches her careful fingers. He momentarily wishes he was someone who could build something so intricate, so necessary. Lately his hands have seemed better spent being used to destroy.

When Raven climbs onto the cot, he stays still, his eyes still on the sky. Part of him constantly waits for the next attack, or another explosion. Sometimes it feels like the sky has guns aimed down at them, ready for fire.

Her back is turned to him, tucked into herself and he gives in, shifts his body to face her backside. He notices that her tank top has ridden up, exposing the scar traveling down her lower back and into the waist band of her boyshorts.

Without thinking, his thumb traces the path, feeling her flinch beneath him.

He can't pinpoint the exact moment, that gut feeling a person is supposed to get when they realize. It could've been the first time he found her sitting on the edge of his bed, all calm and contained fury. Or maybe when that bullet lodged its way near her spine- his thumb tracing the scar the way you follow the road on a map. But if pushed, if he had to pinpoint the exact moment, it would probably have something to do with a desperate girl, grabbing for his arm to tell him, _we can't just abandon our people_

x

He goes hunting with Raven, and it's getting colder out, the trees have started to collect some frost in the early mornings. It's pretty, and also very much a warning. They'll need to prepare for winter.

He told Raven to stay back at camp, but she was so determined to prove that she's healed. She's always so determined to prove she's _not_ broken. He never thought she was.

Bellamy just wants her to say something, anything to fill the silence. He's not much for small talk but it's not as though they're strangers navigating the forest together. There's a conversation dwelling somewhere in the backs of their minds.

Bellamy can already picture the glare he'll receive if he asks her about Wick.

Something shifts from behind them and his rifle goes up like a reflex, eyes searching for the source.

Raven lowers it gently, whispers, "What if it's-"

And Bellamy says, with all the certainty he has, "It's not."

x

They all sit out by the fire, and Wick is rambling about generators and Bellamy is staring into his cup of moonshine. Raven laughs and his eyes flick up, seeing her smile makes him a little warmer. For a moment he's jealous, wishes that he could bring that sort of grin to her face. He's the one to be there when the night terrors take over and everyone else is asleep- never holds her too close, knowing it'll only make her curl into herself more.

Wick presses a kiss to Raven's temple and heads to his room. A few scatter later on and soon it's just the two of them, flames still flickering but starting to dwindle. She looks beautiful next to the fire. He's probably had a little too much moonshine.

"You know," he starts, voice soft. "I still think about it sometimes."

She's still staring into the fire, a little absent. "Think about what?"

Bellamy chuckles lightly, takes another gulp of his drink. The burn pools in the bottom of his stomach. It was stupid, to think she would've ever given that night a second thought. He's a source of comfort, that's his role now. That was a different time, a different enemy, and she was very bitter.

Well, maybe some things haven't changed.

Raven glances up at him for the first time since taking the seat to his left. She grabs for his cup and takes a long swig of her own, cringing a little as it goes down.

She says, "Me too."

"Can you," he takes another gulp of moonshine, feeling warm. Her head is on his shoulder. "Stay here for a little bit?"

There's a spot to his right, where Clarke used to sit. It's empty now, and he stares at the space a little too long. Raven looks up at him with narrowed eyes.

She says, "Sure."

x

Bellamy can't ignore the stares from Abby. Every search mission has him returning empty handed and Abby just stares at him. He wants to read her eyes. She's sad, and disappointed, and maybe even a little angry. But he keeps trying, knowing that even if he finds Clarke, he can't force her to return to Arkadia. She would hate him if he did.

" _Do you ever wish it had been you?"_

He's sitting in Raven's workshop, browsing through one of her manuals. He tries to pretend he has any concept of what he's reading. He looks up at her for a moment, but her eyes are still focused on tinkering with her current project.

"What?" He asks, knowing the question already.

"Do you ever wish you had been the one to leave?" She glances at him, "Do you ever wish you had followed her?"

It seems, everyone in the camp has had these thoughts, whether or not they voice them. The hundred, in one way or another, had become Bellamy and Clarke's responsibility over time. And he had accepted that responsibility because they were his people, his brothers and sisters to look after. But he also accepted that responsibility because he had Clarke, someone to share the victories and the losses with him. It would have been easy to follow her.

 _I bear it, so they don't have to._

"Well I didn't," he says, "and wishing is pointless."

Raven snorts at that.

x

He doesn't mean to hear it, their voices harsh and controlled. He doesn't _mean_ to hear it, but he does. He hears the way Raven groans, and there's so much evident frustration that he can't force himself to just walk away.

"You gotta give me something here, Reyes," Wick whispers, and it's soft- almost desperate, "I know it's hard, but you've got to let those walls down."

If they've learned anything since landing on the ground, nothing good can come from letting your walls down. And Bellamy remembers. He remembers Lincoln, tied up and wounded, and Bellamy had just about given up. He remembers Raven, electrical cords in her hands, screaming, _he's all I have._ Her only goal was to keep Finn alive. Bellamy knew a thing or two about that. 

And Bellamy knows Raven, knows how she can push and pull and mangle you into a pile of limbs if you're not careful. She's explosive and challenging, and she loves Finn. These are things that Bellamy holds true, unchanging.

He can barely hear Raven, her voice so faint. His ear is practically against the wall.

 _You won't like what you see, if I do._

x

Bellamy goes out into the woods on his own one morning. The camp was getting louder than the thoughts in his head. He absently wonders what would happen if he just kept walking, never turned around. If he walked in a straight line forever, would he find out that Earth _is_ actually flat, and he could walk right off the edge?

The wind whistles through the trees and sends a chill down his spine. He should head back. He really should. Instead he stands at a clearing and watches blackbirds come and go from the field. It's peaceful and quiet, aside from their echoing calls. If he was a bird, he could call Clarke home. He's probably never had a more ridiculous thought.

When he finally wills himself to return to camp it's almost midnight and Octavia is fuming. She shoves him so hard that he nearly falls backwards. Lincoln's hand is on her arm, an attempt to calm her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Octavia's voice echoes like those stupid birds, "You can't just walk out of here without telling anyone!"

Kane and Abby drift over carefully, and Bellamy has never liked scenes. He glares at Octavia for her to lower her voice, so in response she punches his arm.

"We were about to send out a search party for you, you idiot," she says, voice harsh. But then she's jumping into his arms, burying her face in his chest like so many times before and he starts to smile.

x

Bellamy stops by Raven's workshop on his way to bed, and she's plugging away at whatever she's been working on and Bellamy has to clear his throat to get her to acknowledge his presence. He walks to the workbench but her eyes stay focused on her work. She's ignoring him.

"Raven," he says, finally.

"Bellamy."

He moves closer to her, places a gentle hand on her shoulder and she rolls out of the touch. Bellamy feels his stomach drop. He wants to hug her.

He whispers, "Look at me."

But when she looks at him, he has to look down at the floor. Her eyes are glassy and red, dark circles rimming them. She hasn't slept, and strands of hair are falling in her face.

"You just left," she says, and her voice cracks. "You were just gone."

There's a heavy silence that weighs on him and he thinks that she wants to say more- like she'd come to see him while he was gone, like she'd heard Octavia panicking and had started panicking herself.

But it takes too long and she's not talking so he says _I'm sorry_ , and she just shrugs. She returns to her work without a word. Bellamy reaches out to touch her again, but the gesture gets lost in the distance between them, and he drops his hand at his side. He turns to leave when her voice stops him at the door.

"Bellamy," her eyes are on her hands. His eyes are on her, "Thanks for coming back."

Bellamy can't help the way his mouth curves at the edges, beyond his control.

x

Bellamy and moonshine are not a great combination. He learns this when he stumbles into Raven's tent one night, vision a little blurred, but he can't stop thinking about her stupid ponytails, hard edges in her face. He can't stop thinking about her screams, and maybe he needs to know she's okay. These days he can't tell what's real.

Raven shoots up from her cot and he smiles with amusement at the number of time she blinks before registering his face.

"Where's Wick?" is the first thing he asks, because- well, he's drunk.

She narrows her eyes at him and proceeds to lay back down. She doesn't bother to answer his question, which sort of answers it enough.

Bellamy nods to her bed, "Can I?"

Raven scoffs at him- which he also likes, a lot- and says, "It's not quid pro quo, shooter."

"No, it's not," he says, "Tell me to get out."

She stares at him for a few seconds before pushing the blanket aside and making space on the cot. Bellamy climbs in beside her and Raven tucks into herself, her back to him again. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye and can hear her shaky breathing.

His voice is low when he says, "Come here."

And she does.

x

Sun is streaming through the flap of Raven's tent when Bellamy wakes up. She's plastered against his chest, arms holding her tightly to him and their legs tangled together. He lets his fingers trail up and down her spine and her hands slide up the back of his shirt.

She starts humming, absently. He tries to recognize the tune. Most of the stuff they've heard was recycled over and over again on the Ark, or discovered in Mount Weather.

" _The mountains and the canyons started to tremble and shake_ ," he mumbles quietly, " _as the children of the sun began to awake_."

He catches her gaze when she looks up at him and she smiles. He has always enjoyed surprising her. Bellamy moves so that he's on his back, and her fingernails are tracing shapes over his stomach. He closes his eyes and almost drifts off again when the shouting starts.

 _Bellamy! Bellamy get out here!_

Raven's brow furrows and he's sure he's mimicking her expression as he pushes himself up off the cot. He throws a shirt on, for appearances sake, and grabs his rifle. It's almost a reflex at this point.

He stumbles out of the tent first, and Raven is not far behind him. Everyone is crowding in a circle and Bellamy pushes through until he sees why.

 _Clarke._


End file.
